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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411568">comfort zone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welcoming_Disaster/pseuds/Welcoming_Disaster'>Welcoming_Disaster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel 616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Whump, but not that much comfort, mentions of injuries and violence, mentions of torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:16:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welcoming_Disaster/pseuds/Welcoming_Disaster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Both of them are hiding wounds.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>You Gave Me A Stocking 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>comfort zone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lomku/gifts">lomku</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">Both of them are hiding wounds.Tony suspects Cap’s are worse than his own.</p><p class="p1">It wasn’t supposed to have been so complicated — the mission had gone off course almost at minute one.</p><p class="p1">It’s the terrain. Both of them should know by now to mistrust mountains.</p><p class="p1">It would be a quick in and out, Tony had said, forty-eight hours ago, before the plane crash, before the carefully timed explosions, before the cave — both of them should know by now to mistrust caves — and the ambush waiting inside.</p><p class="p1">Forty eight hours ago, Tony had told Steve he didn’t expect anyone would be here. No reason, he had said, to call in the rest of the team. And Cap had made the same mistake he’d made hundreds of times before; he’d trusted Tony.</p><p class="p1">There’s nothing to tinker with in this cave. There’s not even a screw driver. Tony’s usual mission kit has been lost with his left gauntlet. He can’t think of a way to fix his flight thrusters with his bare fingers.</p><p class="p1">Tony’s sitting. He’s lost a tooth in the fight, and despite how often he keeps spitting, he still tastes blood. His ankle is swollen, not so badly that he can’t shove it into he boot of the suit and force himself up, but badly enough that pacing isn’t an option. Knowing full well that it’s anatomically, physically impossible, he thinks he can feel the insides of his blood vessels, thick arteries and veins branching into tiny capillaries, all of them coursing with whatever the hell it’d been they’d injected him with. The worst of it has subsided, but he’s still dizzy.</p><p class="p1">Steve stands at the opening of the cave, staring out at the cliffs that surround them. His own limp hasn’t stopped him from pacing. In the faint light, Tony can see the places where the back of his uniform has been torn, revealing broken flesh underneath fabric, hooked cuts, the tell-tale torn flesh surrounding a too-dull implement. He’d been tortured for longer than Tony had. They’d cared more about him.</p><p class="p1">“I’m going to try to climb out,” he says.</p><p class="p1">Annoyance, sharp, pierces through the fog of exhaustion in Tony’s mind.</p><p class="p1">“Don’t be stupid, Cap,” he says, sharper, perhaps, than he intends to say it.</p><p class="p1">“The team will be looking for us,” Steve says, “I should start a fire. Smoke signals.”</p><p class="p1">“Plenty of smoke coming already from the plane,” Tony points out, gesturing down to the crash. “Get back inside, Steve.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s raining. It’ll be out soon.”</p><p class="p1">“It’s raining,” Tony says, near-mocking, “you’ll slip and fall to your goddamn death. Get back inside.”</p><p class="p1">Steve turns. His nose is broken, and the blood that still sticks stubbornly to his stubble gives him a near-feral look. His eyes flash, catching the light, and for a moment Tony imagines they’ll fight now, the dirty kind of fighting. They keep track of each other’s bodies, each other’s wounds, and unspoken awareness Tony doesn’t want to start dissecting. He knows about the limp, likely caused by the gash in Steve’s lower thigh, which is deep enough Tony’s sure the blade must have hit bone. He knows about the shallow hooked cuts all over Steve’s back. He’d heard the sharp crack of bone when Steve had had used his own arm as lever and broken the metal restraints, and he’d thought, <em>that’s his ulna.</em></p><p class="p1">Steve knows about the ankle. Steve would know about the drugs, would have caught the irregularities in Tony’s walk, his words, his breaths. Steve probably suspects the same concussion Tony does.</p><p class="p1">They’re both hiding injuries and guessing them, a convoluted game that wastes time and saves dignity.</p><p class="p1">Both of them know the set of words that would hurt the most: <em>You’re useless. You got us into this. They were after you, and now you can’t do shit about it.</em></p><p class="p1">They’re two men in a cave with the power to hurt each other very, very badly.</p><p class="p1">Steve takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Tony can see him count to ten. He can imagine what he’s telling himself — Tony’s hurt. Tony should be allowed to lash out right now. Things are bad enough without the two of us back on our shit, again.</p><p class="p1">Tony tries to tell himself the same.</p><p class="p1">“Listen,” he says, “you heal quickly. If no one’s come for us by tomorrow morning—”</p><p class="p1">“I don’t know what <em>state </em>you’re going to be in by tomorrow morning,” Steve interrupts him, speaking in a quick, frustrated ramble, “you don’t have extremis anymore, someone’s pumped mystery drugs into your veins, and by tomorrow you could be—“</p><p class="p1">Steve’s worked himself up so much, quickly, that Tony almost expects him to punch the wall. Still, he’s strangely touched.</p><p class="p1">“Just— just sit down, please, it hurts to look at you,” Tony says. Part of him wants to force Steve down to his level, onto the stone cold floor of the cave. He’s always been desperate to see eye to eye with Steve.</p><p class="p1">Steve sits, wincing slightly. There’s probably no position that’s entirely comfortable.</p><p class="p1">“Whatever I’m going to feel like in the morning,” Tony says, making eye contact with him, “I’m going to be worse if you’re dead on the rocks out there.”</p><p class="p1">Steve stares at him, holding eye contact for a little too long, and then gives an imperceptible little nod. He doesn’t get up again. It probably hurts.</p><p class="p1">When, several minutes later, their shoulders touch, Tony knows the touch can’t be accidental, that their awareness of each other wouldn’t allow that. He doesn’t know who initiated it, but, when they lean against one another, it’s not accidental. It’s not casual. He can feel every point of contact as though it’s electric, charged a history they’ll never be rid of. He craves this, and yet he can never tolerate it for very long.</p><p class="p1">Steve’s head falls lightly on Tony’s shoulder. Tony’s fingers brush against Steve’s bare arm. They’re closer than they’ve been in months.</p><p class="p1">Neither of them will bring this up when the team gets here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope you liked it!! At the beginning of stockings, I started writing a sci-fi AU for you. It got out of hand I don't know when, or if, it will ever be finished. For now, please have some emotionally tense whump with a little h/c sprinkled on top. </p><p>Very very belated merry Christmas and right on time happy Valentines, lu!!</p><p>-Lena</p></blockquote></div></div>
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